


Origin

by Heliocat



Category: Banana Fish (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Boys In Love, Falling In Love, Feels, Friendship/Love, Love, Love Confessions, Love at First Sight, M/M, OTP Feels, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 21:55:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29442960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heliocat/pseuds/Heliocat
Summary: Ash thinks back, trying to pinpoint the exact moment he fell for Eiji. It was far earlier than he initially thought.Drabble fic written on Valentines.
Relationships: Ash Lynx/Okumura Eiji
Comments: 4
Kudos: 83





	Origin

**Author's Note:**

> My very single self needed some romance on Valentine's day, so I came up with this drabble fic to pass the time while in lockdown, forever alone... A thesaurus was permanently open throughout the writing process...
> 
> British English has been used for spelling and grammar. It's not quite the language of love, but it stole a lot of elements from it early doors, rifling in its fancy pockets for loose grammar... 
> 
> Many thanks to Akimi Yoshida for creating Banana Fish - this is a work of fanfiction, so I own none of the intellectual property.

It was surprising how long it took Ash to realise that what he was feeling was attraction, and a strong one at that. He had confused it for many things in that time; convenience, pity, misplaced lust, a general need to protect innocence, and eventually friendship, but even he had to admit that none of these emotions or sensations had ever made him let his guard down so much before. He was usually incredibly closed as an individual, locking tight around his innermost feelings and insecurities, not allowing anyone in or even to get close to him. However, Eiji apparently held the key to accessing those areas and, dare he hope, fixing them gently and slowly with his soothing kindness, replacing the darkness with light and removing the heavy burdens he carried with him from his heart. He was inexplicably drawn to this boy, this stranger from across the globe, but it had been months before he was able to admit to himself the weird and terrifying emotion he was feeling: Love. 

As he watched Eiji sleeping peacefully in the bed next to him, his black, fluffy hair spread out on the pillow around his head like a halo, he began to wonder when exactly those feelings had begun. While it was only recently that he had been able to unravel the meaning behind these strange thoughts and fears, this being the first time he’d really felt anything this potent before, he knew he’d been experiencing them a while. He thought he had known love before, back when he was younger, still a kid really, but only now that the raging onslaught of true, pure affection and adoration had crashed over him did he realise what he had felt back then was nothing more than a silly teenage crush. She’d been cute, and she’d been friendly, a mutual friend of several of the gang members who would hang out with them occasionally, and he’d been struggling with the hormonal imbalance of the beginnings of puberty, but what he had felt for her had been nothing compared to the all-encompassing warmth and desire he felt now.

She was a good person, but she was not Eiji.

He’d still been distraught when she was murdered. He'd broken down in ugly tears, tumbling into a deep depression for weeks on end, blaming himself. He dreaded to think what he would feel if Eiji ever ended up the same way. The very notion of that caused his heart to skip a beat and his insides to cramp up in horror as a flash of adrenaline surged through his veins.

He began to trace back through time in his mind, trying to find the source of these feelings. Had they maybe developed gradually over time while he’d been living together with this veritable god of goodwill and gentleness? He was a genuinely amusing person to spend time with, after all. He liked to joke around, and his laughter was like honey, sweet and soothing as his smile lit up his face. He was also fun to tease, devolving into his native tongue when he got annoyed, pouting and frowning and muttering to himself but never turning violent. The others in the gang liked him too; he had this uncanny natural ability to befriend people. He was curious about everything, saw joy in small things and beauty in darkness, and Ash found him to be a good listener whenever he wanted to talk about deeper matters. He didn’t judge Ash by the things he had been forced to do, and although he would sometimes look upon Ash with sadness when they talked about his past, he never stared with that guilty pity or disgust that most people did. There was something so… conventional, about bickering with him and bantering over the breakfast table. A little speck of joy and normality in his otherwise hectic and dangerous life. He clung to those moments like a lifeline.

Eiji was tactile and affectionate too, in ways Ash wasn’t used to. None of his hugs or caresses were sexual in nature; they were just pure kindness. There was something very motherly about him, and Ash found himself craving that kind of attention, like a guilty pleasure. It had been years since anyone had touched him like that; the last time he had felt affection was just before Griff left for Vietnam, and the last time anyone had held him to comfort him had been Blanca. He hadn’t even realised how touch starved he was until the first time he and Eiji had fallen asleep together, that night after he had a nightmare and had asked him to stay with him. Crying, he had clung to him, finding he felt safe while draped over his lap, a warm hand tentatively caressing his shoulders while he sobbed. At some point he must have drifted off, because the next thing he knew it was morning and he woke up with Eiji still wrapped around him, after one of the best night’s sleep he’d had for years. However, if he didn’t already have feelings for Eiji, he knew that he would never have even let him get close to him without flinching away. All Eiji’s touches did was cement those feelings firmer.

Then there was his eagerness to assist. Eiji wasn’t especially good at fighting, and he couldn’t shoot for shit, but he insisted on doing whatever he could to help, diligently doing housework and assisting him at the library sometimes, collecting requested books from the shelves for him while he quietly read and made notes, or else he utilised his photography skills to aid him in espionage. He had a deep, personal need to be useful in any way possible, and would get depressed when he was unable to do anything, blind to all the things he was good at and labelling himself as useless. He actively liked to be busy, and watching him working hard and doing whatever he could, often without being asked and certainly without asking for anything in return as payment, had really tugged at Ash’s moral core. Helpfulness and generosity without personal gain were a concept that was foreign to Ash, but not unpleasant, and he really couldn’t think of anyone else who had been so selfless. His gang, for instance, did what he told them because running with Ash offered them protection. They were still his friends, and they were loyal to a fault, but if Ash hadn’t been the ruler of the streets then they probably wouldn’t be nearly as willing to follow him. This applied to his best friends too – Shorter had stuck with him because they mutually benefitted from the alliance. When helping Ash was no longer in his better interests, while it clearly cost him morally and emotionally, he had betrayed him. Even Max, who had been nothing but supportive since they had first met in jail, couldn’t claim he was doing so entirely out of the goodness of his own heart; Ash suspected if he was not Griff’s brother, and there was not an element of guilt and redemption involved, Max might not have even looked twice at him. He’d have kept an eye on him in jail as a favour to Charlie, but that would have been the end of it. Everyone else either helped him as a favour for someone, as part of their job description, or else they demanded some form of payment in return. That was how Eiji differed – Eiji was just naturally giving and would automatically do what was necessary for someone in need, even if in doing so it cost him greatly.

At the start, Ash had abused that attribute horribly. He felt terrible about it now, but could it have been Eiji’s blind willingness that sparked those initial feelings? He’d been desperate when he’d kissed him in jail, seeing no other method of getting a message out of there, and hey, Eiji was cute, so kissing him had been pleasant enough, even though it wasn’t under the best circumstances and had been unrequited. He’d already read from Eiji’s body language and actions in their previous few meetings that he was naïve and willing to please, so he figured it wouldn’t take much to manipulate him into helping him. He was a convenient pawn, and Ash was good at getting what he wanted from people. What he didn’t expect was for Eiji to run off on his own when he couldn’t find Shorter to complete his relatively simple task of passing on a message. Most other people would have just given up at that point. Eiji, however, had taken it upon himself to do what Shorter was supposed to, consequently putting himself in danger. He wondered if maybe this event marked the start of his feelings, but the more he thought about it the less likely that became.

For one thing, Eiji’s actions indirectly led to Griffin being shot. If Shorter or someone more streetwise had taken on his request like they were supposed to, then Arthur wouldn’t have found Dr. Meredith and Griff would probably still be here, although arguably he was better off dead. However, if someone else had gone and the same scenario had played out, Ash knew he would have been livid at the messenger for fucking up. Once he had gotten out of jail, he was fairly certain he would have wanted some form of revenge, and even if he didn’t outright kill them, he would have certainly punished them. Because it was Eiji, however, Ash had felt nothing but sorrow and guilt. When he heard about what happened his first thoughts, after a crushing sense of loss that Griff was now gone, were worry and concern about the fate of Eiji. If he’d been killed too, he would never have forgiven himself. He’d been relieved when Max told him that Eiji was alive and back safe with Ibe, but that didn’t override the thought that he’d sent someone inexperienced right into the line of fire. That idea had clawed at something deep inside him with an unpleasant coldness, a worry that he had come so close to losing someone undeserving of that fate forever. He doubted he’d have felt much at all if he didn’t already harbour some form of fondness for him. He didn’t usually bat an eyelid over the people he used for his own devious ends. After that, he'd tried to no avail to push Eiji away from him multiple times to protect him, but Eiji was stubborn and stuck around, several personal reasons prompting him to stay. 

He chased further back into his memories, back to just before jail, a scared but determined tourist tearing a drainpipe off a wall, declaring with a certain level of pride that he used to do track and field in school, like that meant something in this insane world. He was showing signs of being brave to the point of recklessness, panic obviously feeding his desperation into attempting foolish and risky actions. Ash’s outlook on life was inherently nihilistic, and at that point he had been about ready to give up, seeing no logical way out of their predicament, but hearing Eiji’s claim that ‘if I’m going to die anyway, I may as well die trying!’ had filled him with a thrill of hope. When he saw him leap the wall, the pipe bending dangerously close to snapping, rusted metal groaning under his weight as he flew with grace and poise, Ash found himself thinking how free and beautiful he looked. Time almost seemed to stand still as he twisted in the air, vanishing over the other side of the bricks and mortar, and he yearned to get even a small taste of that freedom for himself. It was this simple act of bravery, combined with his fit and athletic frame contorting so sensuously during flight, that Ash knew had really forced the flowers of passion blossoming in his chest to bloom.

But still, it wasn’t the origin. It came close, but it wasn’t the raw beginnings, the root of his feelings.

They had grown while trapped in the compound, he knew this now, a grateful Eiji trying to patch up the worst of his wounds with torn strips of cotton from his shirt. Ash had just saved his life, but they were still in danger and rather than worry about himself, Eiji was worrying about everyone else. Most people in his situation would have panicked and cared only about their own skins, but not Eiji. He’d been blatantly scared, his hands shaking as he had tied the makeshift bandages, a tiny waver of fear in his voice, and yet his compassion for others was strong, even for a no-good street punk like himself who had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Even here though, while he knew at this point that he liked Eiji, and the first little seeds of friendship took root, Ash couldn’t call this the start of his love.

His very first meeting with Eiji, his initial thoughts had been generally neutral and non-committal. He had been expecting Ibe to come alone, so there was some pleasant surprise at him bringing a young assistant with him. Eiji, on first inspection, was typically Asian. He wore clothing which was simple, comfortable, plain and utilitarian, and would probably look more at home on a middle-aged schoolteacher than on a teenager. He looked young for his age, as many Asians do, but it had stunned him a little when he said he was older than him; he didn’t look a day over fifteen. His general features were similar to a lot of the Chinese kids he knew, and yet somehow skewed just slightly. His eyes had the typical monolid, but they were large and cute, doe-like, making them a startlingly prominent feature. His face had a subtly different shape to it as well, was more oval and incredibly expressive. In the space of five minutes, he had shown trepidation, surprise, happiness, annoyance, awkwardness, and curiosity, just through facial movements alone. He was slim, but there was some hint at definition under his clothes, in the shape of his waist, the width of his shoulders, and the firmness of his butt in the jeans he wore, all distinct signs that he kept himself in shape. His hair was fluffy, a shiny black, neatly trimmed with a floppy fringe that hung in his eyes. It wasn’t until they made direct eye contact, warm brown meeting his shrewd green, that cupid had fired his arrow. Ash had been struck by how incredibly… _adorable,_ he was. There was something about him that was just so innocent, carefree, like a puppy, and he’d had the briefest of moments where he kind of wanted to just violently squeeze him, misplaced aggression the only response his misfiring brain would interpret at that moment. The more rational part of his thoughts quickly caught up, memories from a psychology textbook informing him that he had just experienced ‘cute aggression’, a phenomena that, weirdly, inspires protective instincts in people. 

“Is that gun real?”

Was he being serious, or was he really that pure? Somehow, that cluelessness drew him in more.

“In Japan, I only ever hold toy gun. May I see it? Your gun? Please?”

The hush of tension in the bar had been palpable. Alex, sat besides him, had paused with a drink halfway to his mouth, cautious as if sensing imminent danger. Skipper had been equally edgy, his little body stiffening, as if preparing himself to jump between the two of them in an attempt to stop Ash going postal. Even Ibe had muttered something to Eiji in Japanese, likely about how his question was dangerously loaded - quite literally. Eiji, meanwhile, was blissfully ignorant of exactly how brazen his request had been, yet more clues of his sheltered life.

“Sure.”

Even he is uncertain why he handed the weapon over. Handing a loaded gun to a stranger was a dumb idea no matter what way you looked at it. It just felt _right_ to do so, as if he already trusted Eiji not only to not hurt him, but also to hold a piece of his very soul in his hands. He’d handled the weapon with cautiously gentle care, happy just to have it resting nestled in his palms, before handing it back with the biggest smile.

That was it.

The beginning of everything.

That smile. That childish, beaming grin, so free of fear and judgement. Ash knew two things in that moment. One, this innocence was an intrinsic part of him and had to be protected. Two, he was hopelessly smitten with this boy.

Instantly, he had pushed those fanciful little notions aside. At the time, he had thought that, once Eiji left the bar, following Ibe and under the protection of the cops, he would probably never see him again. Had the events that followed not taken place, Eiji would have walked out the door, out of his life forever, and his brief flicker of endearment would pass, dissipating in a matter of hours like smoke in the wind.

Ash never thought he would be thanking Arthur for anything, but sometimes things happen for a reason. 

Eiji stirred slightly in bed, whining quietly as his arms and legs shifted to a more comfortable position, almost as if he was aware of eyes on him. Seconds later, he wriggled again, his eyes opening blearily as his own movement roused him. Any other night at any other time, he would have probably drifted straight back to sleep, not even remembering his briefest moment of wakefulness come morning, but-

“Ash…?” He’d seen him, or rather the silhouette of him in the darkness as he blocked the perpetual twilight of city streetlights and the moon glowing through the blinds, murmuring his name as he tried to focus on him. “Why you awake?” he slurred sleepily. “You have nightmare again?”

“No,” Ash told him quietly. “Go back to sleep.”

“Are you okay…?”

“Just thinking through some things.”

“You want talk…?” Half asleep, his English was even more broken and accented than usual, as he drowsily struggled with the foreign language.

“No.”

“Hmm…”

There was silence for a while, before Ash added in barely a whisper, “I think I love you, Eiji…”

He didn’t know if Eiji heard him or not. The only reply he got was deep rhythmic breathing as he fell back into slumber.


End file.
